


Echo in the Universe

by Maverick



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Gen, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, M/M, Team as Family, old guard big bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:53:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29934378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maverick/pseuds/Maverick
Summary: “Is there anything youwereinvolved in that history got really wrong?” Nile asked.Joe and Nicky looked at each other and then turned to Nile to answer in unison, “None worse than the Great Train Robbery of 1963.”AKA: Joe and Nicky storytime, the Great Train Robbery Edition.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 2
Kudos: 68
Collections: The Old Guard Big Bang





	Echo in the Universe

**Author's Note:**

> Title from a quote by Rumi: _When you seek love with all your heart you shall find its echo in the universe._
> 
> A huge thank you to my partner in crime on this project GrinAndBearIt. I hope this little heist fic does her amazing artwork the justice it deserves. 
> 
> Click [HERE](https://www.instagram.com/p/CMMT_uQHliq/?igshid=3mvcuf9iz6t4) to see her awesome artwork
> 
> And a ginormous size thank you to my beta Pollitt, who willed this fic into existence and then spent literally hours finding and fixing my mistakes. (And remaining mistakes are all on me fiddling around after she was done.) I would have packed up my marbles at 9000 words and gone home if not for her.

August 1963  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~

There is a distinctive sound that a blow to the skull makes that Nicky knows all too intimately. It’s that sound that draws him into the front compartment of the train by instinct. They had been promised no casualties and minimal violence, so when he slides to a stop at the entry of the cab of the train, he expects perhaps the driver got the upper hand on one of the robbers. Instead, he finds the driver slumped on the floor, a pool of blood blooming out under the back of his head. Two of the robbers are standing over him, a lead pipe held in one of their hands.

“What the fuck?” Nicky asks as he fully enters the cab. “Who’s going to drive the train now?” 

“Napoleon brought a guy in to drive,” said the asshole not holding the cosh.

Nicky walks over to assess and attend to the driver’s injuries only to have the asshole _with_ the cosh raises it like he’s ready to bash in Nicky’s head as well. Nicky fixes him with a glare that could cut glass, his eyes bright with fury. “Put that down and find me a towel or something to stave the bleeding.”

The robber must have understood the seriousness of Nicky’s tone because he did what he was told. Nicky kneels down and slides the towel carefully under the driver’s head. He has a broken nose and a black eye as well. It’s clear they roughed him up before they cracked his skull.

Nicky looks from one man to the other. “Is there a reason he’s in such bad shape?”

The first robber says, “He tried to escape.”

Nicky snorts. “And the two of you couldn’t subdue a fifty-plus-year-old man without bashing in his skull.”

“Who the fuck are you to judge us?” 

Nicky’s heard enough, he quickly stands and swings his body around, delivering a sharp elbow to one robber’s adam’s apple and incapacitating him before lunging forward to slam the pipe wielder up against the side of the train compartment. He presses his forearm against the man’s neck. “I’m the signore who’s going to make sure no one dies during this robbery. That said, if you try anything else, I’ll gladly make an exception for you.” Nicky removes his arm, allowing the other man to take a gasp of air. “Now go check on your friend while I tend to the driver’s injuries.” 

Nicky had made enough of an impression that the man listens. 

~*~*~*~ NOW ~*~*~*~

They’d settled into a routine after a job. 

Andy would go off to lick her wounds by herself. After being invincible for so long, it was hard for her to let the others see her hurt. She told Nicky he was the worst. He always wanted to patch her up, but that’s not what she needed. She’d always return within a week with a bottle of wine or some ingredient for Nicky to cook with to apologize for not letting him do the job she’d assigned to him centuries ago. 

Nile, Nicky and Joe would travel together, sometimes to an established safe house, sometimes to an almost posh rental found through an app that Nile set up for them. This time, they were staying at one of their own places in Lisbon. For Joe and Nicky, Portugal held almost the same sense of home and love that Malta did. They had spent several decades there centuries ago when it was a haven where the Moors and local Portuguese lived in harmony. There was the same kind of openness now. You could walk the ancient cobblestone streets and hear six different languages spoken. And the people were genuinely friendly. None of the bitter divide that plagued many other countries in Europe. 

Nicky and Joe took turns playing tour guide and language coach for Nile. They took the time to immerse Nile into the culture they both loved so much. Nicky introduced her to egg tarts and the proper way to eat octopus. Joe taught her the vira, a traditional dance of Portugal, and to a factory to see how cork was made. They all explored the Oldest Bookstore in the World. Joe even took her to the coast to give her surfing lessons. Even with all that, most nights ended with them reclining on a couch or in a chair -- or against one another in Joe and Nicky’s case -- drinking wine together and Nile asking for bedtime stories. Both Nicky and Joe made sure to make Nile tell her stories as well, but most days Nile asked a question and Nicky and Joe answered. 

Today the questions came earlier in the day and with no wine involved. 

“Seeing your history laid out all over Copley’s walls, is there any conflict you didn’t get up into?” Nile asked as she passed the now cleaned gun back to Nicky. 

Nicky motioned to Joe to answer. Joe said, “Hmm” and closed his eyes in thought. He opened them and looked from Nicky to Nile. “We wisely stayed out of the Alamo.” 

“We learned our lesson after the War of 1812,” Nicky said with a small smile. 

“Not that it was a lesson that stuck,” Joe said as he passed another gun to Nicky. He turned and looked directly at Nile. “The centuries are filled with good people making bad decisions. As Nicky said the first night we met, it really does depend on the century. We don’t always get it right.” 

“But we always try.”

“And sometimes we realize mid-battle that we have the hots for the opposing force and alter our lives accordingly.”

Nile laughed. “Besides your bloody meet-cute in the Crusades, was there anything else you _were_ involved in that history got really wrong?” 

Joe and Nicky looked at each other and then turned to Nile to answer in unison, “None worse than the Great Train Robbery of 1963.”

~*~*~*~ THEN ~*~*~*~

Booker dropped the plan with a casual nonchalance over breakfast one typical weekday morning. He’d been staying with them in Edinburgh for the last month. The team had separated after a bad run of it in Cuba and both he and Joe enjoyed having their little brother with them. Andy chose to stay in London but would take the train up to visit every couple of months. While Nicky was always up for a fight to fix some injustice, he enjoyed these episodes of peace. He and Joe settled in Scotland so he could earn another degree. Joe took a job as a math tutor and set up their sunroom as his art studio. It’d been quite some time since his Yusef had had time to paint. They had settled into this new normal and Nicky wasn’t looking for that to change anytime soon. 

Booker, it would seem, had other plans. 

They were all used to Booker’s “flights of fancy” as Joe called them. Even after nearly 150 years, Booker could never seem to settle. Normally, Nicky was the first to encourage Booker when he found a passion for something. But this particular flight was not something he could get behind. 

Nicky stood up so quickly, he nearly knocked over the dining room chair. “Are you insane?” he asked Booker. “I know you feel some sort of affinity for riding the rails but robbing a mail train? Have you forgotten prison is never a good way for us to spend our time?”

“What makes you think we’d get caught? Besides, it’s no different from any of our other jobs,” Booker reasoned.

Nicky started clearing the dishes off the table. Joe stood up and took them out of his hands and quickly set them in the kitchen. “It is different and you know it. I’m the first to admit we sometimes choose the wrong side, but we have never committed a crime simply because we could.” 

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset Nicky. It’s low risk for casualties. Besides, Joe’s on board.” Booker couldn’t seem to help the slight smirk that crossed his face at his pun.

Nicky clenched his fists like it took all his strength not to punch that look off of Booker’s face. “Really? Oh, Joe’s on board is he? And if I decide it’s time to up and move to New Zealand, what exactly do you think Joe would do?”

Joe came back into the room and placed a hand on Nicky’s very tense shoulder. He looked directly at Booker. “I’d be digging out my industrial sheers from storage and honing up on my Māori.”

Booker knew deep down why Joe’s first loyalty would always be to Nicky but sometimes he couldn’t help but kick the hornet's nest. “Just because he follows you around like a puppy doesn’t mean he should.” 

Joe recoiled like he’d been hit. He stood silent. Nicky was anything but silent. “Get out of my house. I have to get ready for class. Be gone by the time I’m done.” 

Booker stood up. “You’re kicking me out?” 

“That would be correct,” Nicky said looking directly into Booker’s eyes. 

“Joe?” Booker asked as Nicky walked away. 

“Woof. Woof,” Joe said without irony. “The best thing you can do right now is leave.”

Booker nodded and headed to the guest room to gather up his things. Joe followed him.

“Making sure I don’t steal the linens?” Booker asked as he packed his duffle bag.

“No. Wondering why are you being such an asshole?”

Booker stopped and looked at Joe. “I really think we need to do this.” 

“So you thought insulting Nicky and trashing our relationship was the best way to get him to come around?” Joe asked with an incredulous tone. 

“Why is it always up to him?”

“Because of the four of us, he has the most common sense and sense of purpose. But that’s not true, it doesn’t always come down to him.’

“Seems like it,” Booker said, shoving the last of his things into his backpack. 

Joe snorted. “You just don’t like not getting your way.” 

“Things could go really badly if we don’t step in,” Booker said, meeting Joe’s eyes. 

Joe could see that Booker was being sincere. “Maybe you should have led with _that_ instead of saying it’s no big deal and then insinuating Nicky leads me around by my dick.” 

Booker sat on the bed and looked up at Joe. “Okay, I fucked up. How do I fix it?” 

“Listen to Nicky and leave for now,” Joe patted Booker’s shoulder. I’ll talk to him, but you need to know if he decides it’s not worth the risk, we’re both out.”

“I know,” Booker said, rising and walking out of the room. “Tell him, I said sorry.”

Joe nodded and saw Booker to the door. 

After giving Nicky some time to cool down, Joe followed him into the bedroom. He was fully dressed now, wearing his standard school uniform of high-waisted pants, long sleeve button down and silk cravat. Joe had bought him that one, the purple paisley design making Nicky’s eyes pop more than usual. He picked up the conversation from where they had left it in the living room. “It’s nearly the end of the semester.”

Nicky grabbed his satchel from the back of the desk chair and slid his notebooks inside. “And what? That’s reason enough to rob a train?”

“‘Well technically, we’d be robbing the robbers of the train. But however you label it, our participation won’t interfere with your studies.“

Nicky snorted. “Yes because _that’s_ what I am worried about.”

Joe walked over and reached out and took the satchel to set it on the chair. Taking a step closer, he cupped his hands on Nicky’s shoulders and looked directly into Nicky’s eyes. “What are you worried about habibi? We have certainly done riskier missions, Joe said, ready to read Nicky’s face if he didn’t have the words. 

Nicky closed his eyes and exhaled before meeting Joe’s eyes with his own. “True but always with a purpose. This feels very much like Booker needing an adrenaline kick. I like the life we’ve built here. I don’t want to risk it because Booker overheard something at a bar.”

He should have known Nicky would find the words. Sliding his hand upward, Joe brushed Nicky’s bangs from his eyes and smiled. Time for a little levity. “He’s going by Baz now.”

Nicky snorted again. “He can declare himself Elvis. But that doesn’t mean I’m ever going to call him that. The point is, we choose jobs to right wrongs and do some good. How does robbing a train fit that bill?”

“Baz,” Joe started and stopped when Nicky cut him with his eyes. “Booker says this issue is what they plan to do with the money.” 

“Still doesn’t seem like our kind of job. And to be honest, like I said, I’ve enjoyed not being in combat this last year.” 

Joe gave him a wry smile. “I don’t know about that. I have seen and heard you debate some of your religious studies cohorts. Seems very much like combat to me.”

Nicky smiled and nodded. “Not untrue. But the impassioned debate has, so far, not required the use of my sword or a gun.”

“I’m glad of that,” Joe said, with a wink. Somehow I doubt slaughtering your classmates -- no matter how ignorant they may be -- is the best way to defend your doctoral thesis. And again this would be a one-time job. You’ll be back schooling your peers on 16th-century theology come September.” 

Sighing, Nicky closed his eyes again. “Again, timing is not the issue. It’s the robbing.” 

Sliding his hand down, Joe ran his fingers through the cool silk of Nicky’s cravat, letting his pinky slip inside the gap in Nicky’s shirt, relishing the shudder that ran through Nicky’s body at that simple contact. “After you hear the entire plan, if you’re still a hard no, that’s the end of it. We go together or not at all.” 

Nicky put his hand over Joe’s. “You don’t play fair Yusuf.” 

Joe gave him his most innocent look. “What?” 

Nicky leaned in for a kiss. He could feel Joe’s smile against his face. He reached over and picked up his satchel. He met Joe’s eyes. “Fine, I’ll hear him out. But I’m not calling him Baz. And he’s not staying here anymore.” 

“Understood,” Joe said with another kiss. This time with a quick swipe of his tongue. “Ti amo, Nicolo,” he said when they broke apart.

“Anch'io. And again you don’t play fair.” Nicky ran his lips across Joe’s temple as he began to walk to the door. “I’ll see you after my lecture. Tell Booker, he can make his case tomorrow.” 

“Give ‘em hell,” Joe said, with a salute.

“That’s more next semester. Today will be more explaining why Martin Luther was an anti-semite who took advantage of his young ward when he married her.” It wasn’t until Nicky finished his answer that he realized Joe was talking figuratively. He leaned in for one more kiss. 

~*~*~*~ NOW ~*~*~*~ 

Nile looked from Joe to Nicky. “I’m totally getting off topic, but I’ve always wondered, how many degrees do you guys have?”

“Eight? No, nine,” Joe said.

“Together?” Nile asked, clearly invested. She loved how they never lost their love of learning. They were always improving their skills even after 900 years of life. She hoped she was able to keep that same level of inquiry as her centuries worn on. She realized she had gone on a tangent inside her head. She turned and found Nicky patiently waiting just like he always did.

“No, we each have that many,” Nicky said. “Well, I have nine. Three masters and six doctorates. Joe only has eight.”

“That’s not right. I distinctly remember, I have nine.”

Nicky rolled his eyes. “You may have written a 1,220 page thesis on all the ways in which Thomas Jefferson sucks. And you may have defended it in that bar outside Charlottesville, Virginia. But there was no degree awarded. In fact, we were very lucky that we made it out of there alive.”

“1220 pages,” Nile asked, her mouth agape. “On Thomas Jefferson being bad?”

Joe nodded. “Nicky made me trim it down from its original 1600 pages.”

“That’s your take away from what Nile said?” NIcky asked, clearly amused.

“1600 pages? What did Jefferson do to you? Did he try to fuck Nicky or something?”

Nicky was shaking his head and making a slashing motion across his neck to stop Nile from asking that question. 

“It is what he did to all of us,” Joe said with such vitriol and disdain that Nile was struck silent. “I was never so happy to see death set upon anyone but that bastard. It has been my great pleasure to see how the narrative has shifted away from the man who wrote the Declaration of Independence to the cruel slave owner who raped his slaves.”

Before Joe could go deeper down that rabbit hole, Nicky pivoted away from the subject. “Joe has five doctorates and three masters currently. He is completing an online degree on the use of Islamic geometric patterns and the expansion in the number of point patterns in Islamic art between the 13th and 16th century.”

“There’s an online course for that?” Nile asked, again dumbfounded by what she was learning. 

Nicky laughed. “In a way. Joe wrote the three major authorities on the subjects back in the 1700s. It details the shift to mathematically-based patterns.” 

“You’ll let me read them?”

Joe nodded. “Of course. While portraits remain my first love, there is something very powerful and compelling about using math as art.” 

Letting out a huge sigh, Nile shook her head. “I know I’m going to regret this, but Nicky what’s your most outlandish degree?”

“I have a PhD in thanatology.”

“Do I want to know?” Nile asked. 

Joe laughed. “It’s a degree in dead people.” 

“Like zombies?” Nile asked, her eyes very wide.

“There are no such things as zombies,” Nicky said emphatically. 

Nile stared at him. “Says the guy who comes back from the dead on the regular.” 

“This is a fair point,” Nicky said. “Thanatology is the scientific study of death and the losses brought about as a result. It’s a combination of forensics and the psychology of the impact of death.” 

Joe huffed. “It is more than that. It’s Nicky’s true passion. It’s the reverence of life from when he was a priest, it's his counseling of families who have lost loved ones to war or gun violence. It’s a way for the team to be surrounded by death and not fear it. It’s the principle that guides all the work that he does. It’s why I know we’ll be okay when Andy’s time comes.”

Nicky leaned over and kissed Joe, cradling the back of his head. “You incurable romantic.”

Nile cocked her head toward them. “That actually sounds kinda cool. You’ll tell me more later?”

“As you wish little sister,” Nicky said. 

“How about you Joe. Besides, your fuck Thomas Jefferson manifesto. What’s your most interesting degree?”

“My degrees are not nearly as unique as Nicky’s,” Joe said. “Just math and art.”

Nicky snorted. “‘Just math and art,’ he says. He has written theorems and created art that has spurred on literally hundreds, if not thousands, of disciples. I’ll show you his work the next time we are in Italy.” 

“You both are very aggressive about singing the other’s praises,” Nile said. “It is weird but also totally you. I look forward to learning more.” 

And then an idea struck and she added animatedly, “Hey, do you think I could take courses as well?”

“Of course, we’ll get Copley to set you up with an identity. Any idea of what you want to study. You were working on a degree in art history, correct?” 

“I am. I was. Your specializations got me thinking, and I was thinking about studying indigenous cave art. Every culture on earth seems to have similar ruins -- I’d like to see if there’s a deeper connection.”

“Then we’ll make sure you can do just that. Are you interested in hearing the rest of the train story?” 

“Hell ya. Bring it on,” Nile said with a smile.

~*~*~*~ THEN ~*~*~*~

Booker was at the door early the next morning and only looking semi-hungover. 

Nicky let him in and led him over to the kitchen table “Don’t remember the last time you were up this early unless it was for a mission.” 

“Wasn’t sure if you had class this morning so I wanted to get here early,” Booker said as Nicky handed him a cup of coffee. He set down his coffee and pulled out the blueprints. 

Nicky shook his head. “Not yet Booker. First, tell me how you ended up planning a train robbery with a bunch of seasoned criminals.” 

“By accident. I was drinking at The Sheep Heid’s and started playing darts with a couple of blokes. We got to talking about the war when a third man showed up. He called himself Napoleon.”

Nicky raised an eyebrow. “Really Booker. I would have thought you would have learned by now not to follow people called Napoleon.”

Booker rolled his eyes. “Not following him. Robbing him, remember?” 

“So not unlike the real Napoleon then?”

Booker glared at Nicky. “Why are you being such an asshole about this? Joe said you would hear me out.” 

Nicky shrugged. “You’re here and I’m listening, but so far you haven't said anything to convince me that we should risk exposure of who and what we are by robbing a mail train.” 

“You told me to find a purpose,” Booker said with a tone that clearly showed he was still annoyed at Nicky’s reluctance. 

“Again, I’m not sure robbing a train qualifies as purpose. I understand you're still bitter about what happened in Cuba, but acting reckless now will not help stem the pain of those losses. You know this Booker.” 

~*~*~*~ NOW ~*~*~*~

Nile held out her hand like she was hitting pause on a remote control. “What about Cuba?”

Nicky sighed. “Bay of Pigs. We were asked to help train the Cuban exiles. It did not end well. Booker took it rather hard. That’s a whole other story.” 

Joe caught Nile’s eyes. “Booker took point on that. He’d gotten close to several of the soldiers, who weren’t really soldiers at all. He took their losses very, very hard.”

“You could draw a straight line from those losses to the actions that led to Booker’s exile. He never really got over the death of those troops. He blamed himself.”

Nile nodded and shared a sad smile with the two of them. The three of them had stowed their weapons and settled out on their large balcony overlooking Portas do Sol for “storytime,” as Nile had dubbed it. The smell of the salt air and the bustle of the people below seemed to add to the ambiance of the histories that Joe and Nicky shared. Nile could see why they loved Lisbon so much. It was quickly becoming one of her favorites as well. “That does sound like a story for a different time, and I look forward to hearing more about Cuba. Maybe when Andy is with us. But for now, back to the train robbery.” 

~*~*~*~ THEN ~*~*~*~

Booker just cut to the chase. If Nicky was going to agree he needed all the facts. “They are going to use a good portion of the money to stir up trouble in Northern Ireland.” 

If Cuba was a sore subject for Booker, Ireland was the same for Nicky. He had been very close to Michael Collins and his assassination still made his heart ache several decades later. “Explain.”

“Napoleon agreed to split the money evenly, Booker said. “But only after a large portion was set aside to be sent to Unionists in Northern Ireland.”

Nicky needed more information than that. “Why?”

“To counteract the border campaign of the IRA. There’s talk of using the money to plant bombs that could be pinned on the IRA.”

It wouldn’t be the first time those tactics were used. “That doesn’t sound good,” Nicky said. “How reliable is your source?”

“Apparently he has a connection to the riots in Belfast.”

Nicky nodded. “Did you know this information before you agreed to do it?” Nicky asked, already reading the answer on Booker’s face before he started to speak. 

“No. I got caught up in the possibility,” Booker said, meeting Nicky’s eyes. 

“Possibility of what?” Nicky asked. 

“Doing some good. Righting wrongs just like you taught me.”

“Che cavolo Booker. Using my words against me is a very Andy move. What’s her take?”

Booker laughed and met Nicky’s eyes. “She said it was your decision either way.” 

Nicky sighed. “Of course she did. Explain to me how robbing a train is doing some good?”

“Napoleon has brought together over a dozen men. You know with that many people involved someone is going to get hurt. By being part of the team we can stop that from happening.”

“Crimes happen every day. It doesn’t mean we should get involved,” Nicky stated plainly.

“It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t,” Booker countered.

Nicky nodded in acknowledgment. This was not a decision he was willing to make hastily. He needed some time to sleep on it. “I’ll let you know.”

“That’s not a no,” Booker said, a smile clear in his voice.

“It’s not a yes either, mio fratello d'armi1 I need to talk to Joe and mull it over a bit.” Nicky stopped talking until Booker met his eyes. “But for the record, don’t ever try to use Yusef against me again. Like I said yesterday, you won’t like the results. ”

Booked nodded, his eyes reflecting remorse. “Understood. I’m sorry Nicky. I just knew if anyone could convince you it would be him.” 

“Not untrue. But you want me to do something, you come to me yourself.”

“Fair enough,” Booker acknowledged. “Again, I’m sorry. You’ll let me know?”

“By the weekend.” Nicky reached out and squeezed Booker’s shoulder, conveying without words that all was forgiven. “Come over for lunch Saturday. I’ll make your ratatouille.” 

“I’ll see you then,” Booker said, rising from the chair and heading to the front door.”

“Stay out of trouble until then Booker.”

Booker smiled. “I’ll do my best.” 

~*~*~*~  


Joe came up behind Nicky, who was curled up in the chair in their sunroom reading one of his theology textbooks. He placed his hands on Nicky’s shoulders and leaned down to brush his lips against Nicky’s temple. “So you and Booker talked?”

Nicky set his book in his lap and tilted his head up for a proper kiss. “We did. I told him we’d let him know this weekend.”

Joe pulled Nicky to his feet and over to the couch so they could sit together. “So, what’s the verdict?”

Nicky leaned back against Joe. “Oh, it’s all my decision now is it?”

Joe wrapped his arms around Nicky and squeezed. “Didn’t you hear, I just do what you tell me.”

Nicky snorted. “Somehow, I don't think we would have lasted nearly 900 years if that was the case. Why aren’t you more pissed off that Booker went there?”

“He’s always been an asshole. I’m more surprised it’s taken him this long to _go_ there. He knows my loyalty will always be to you first, just as yours will always be to me. It was an easy insult to make because we are as one.” Joe nuzzled his nose against Nicky’s hair.

Nicky nodded.

“I don’t think he expected you to throw his ass out, though,’ Joe said.

Nicky couldn’t see Joe’s smile, but he could feel it against the back of his head. “He’s lucky I didn’t remove him physically,” Nicky said, tilting his head back to knock against Joe’s shoulder. “You are the one area where I will always respond with passion, whether that be in anger or how I much prefer, with love.” 

“You know it’s the same for me,” Joe said. “I think with what happened in Cuba and what happened with Andy, Booker is feeling unmoored. He’s lost his footing, so I think he sees this job as a way for him to get it back.”

Nicky nodded and let out a sigh. “They really picked a shitty time to stop fucking.” 

Joe snorted. Leave it to Nicky to lay it all bare. “I think it might have been even worse if they still were. Andy would have nevertheless left the decision to us and Booker would have blamed her if we said no.” 

“True,” Nicky agreed.

~*~*~*~ NOW ~*~*~*~ 

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold up,” Nile said, nearly jumping out of her seat. Andy and Booker used to hook up?” 

Joe looked to Nicky before he answered. “Yes, for nearly 100 years. It was casual for the Boss. Not so much for Booker.”

“Why’d they stop?”

Nicky picked up the thread. “Because it was casual for the Boss and not so much for Booker. As Booker liked to say, misery loves company.”

“I had no idea,” Nile said. She paused and seemed to be running things in her head. “Well, that explains a lot, actually.”

Both men nodded. It was clear there was a connection between Andy and Booker. There were many times that they had been mistaken for a couple before Nicky and Joe were. There was love and acceptance between them that went beyond just the century spent together. But Andy could never fully commit to anyone, not since Quyhn. In his head, Booker understood this fact, but his heart was another matter. He viewed the ending of their physical relationship as just another connection he’d lost to immortality. 

“It ended more than half a century before you joined us, so there was no reason you would have known,” Joe said. “They were always better as friends. Booker didn’t know Andy when she was with Quynh. A large part of her heart is trapped in that iron coffin with Quynh and it always will be.”

Nile looked to Nicky and then to Joe. “That’s another story I want to hear one day.” 

Nicky nodded. “Not our story to tell but you should ask Andy. I think it would do her good to share Quynh with you.”

THEN  
~*~*~*~*~*~

“So again, what’s the verdict?” Joe asked. 

“I’m not as opposed as I was before Booker explained the plan. But there is still a big question that needs to be answered before I agree to anything.” Nicky turned his head to meet Joe’s eyes. “What are we going to do with the money?”

“You think Booker will want to keep it?” Joe asked.

NIcky took Joe’s hand in his and massaged his knuckles, relishing in the charcoal smudges that meant Joe had spent the day creating masterpieces in his makeshift studio. “I don’t know,” Nicky said. “If he suggests that, I will not say yes.” 

Joe brought Nicky’s hand to his mouth and kissed his palm. “He might just surprise you my love.”

“One can hope and dream,” Nicky said. 

~*~*~*~

Lunch on Saturday was a tense affair. Nicky insisted they eat before they talked business. Booker normally loved breaking bread with Joe and Nicky, but this day it was a little like torture. And it wasn’t like Nicky ever gave anything away. His poker face was legendary. Only Joe, and occasionally Andy, could read his silent stares. Even after 100 years, Booker had not mastered that skill. So he waited and ate his bowl of ratatouille, but not with his usual gusto. 

Nicky finished his bowl and set down his spoon. He looked over at Booker. Joe just leaned back and watched. “I have some questions and the answer to those questions will decide whether or not we are doing this job.”

Booker leaned forward, hands palms down on the table. “Hit me.” 

“We rob the robbers. You said because of the bank holiday, there will be an abundance of money -- two million pounds or more. What are we doing with the money after we rob them?”

Booker had clearly anticipated Nicky’s question and had an answer at the ready. It was probably the one that Nicky was expecting, but it was not Booker’s real answer. “Can’t we just keep it? It’s insured.”

Nicky let out a loud sigh. “No, Booker, we can’t just keep it. There is no scenario that I will agree to where we keep the money for ourselves. That is non-negotiable.” 

Booker smiled, clearly enjoying Nicky’s indigent answer. 

Joe looked from Booker to Nicky. “It appears Booker was expecting that response from you, my love. So what’s your plan, Book?” 

“What about Malta?”

“Malta?” Nicky asked. 

“Yes. Your beloved Malta. They are mounting an effort to gain their independence from Great Britain and become their own sovereign state again. We could funnel the money into that effort.”

Nicky turned his attention to Booker’s face. “Did you just come up with that on the sly?”

Booker laughed. “No. I know you Nicky. I know you would never agree to us keeping the money. I figured I had to present you with a worthy enough cause.”

Joe nodded, slightly impressed. They did love Malta. “How did you come up with Malta?”

“As soon as I got involved with the plan, I looked for ideas of what we could do with the money,” Booker addressed Nicky and Joe as a unit. “I first thought about the charities you’ve set up over the years, but excess money to those could raise a flag and cause an investigation. When I went down to London to see Andy last month, Maltese independence was all over the papers. For the first time since it was first brought up over a decade ago there is momentum to make it happen. But momentum alone cannot change the tide. Momentum needs money to thrive.” 

“I’m impressed Booker,” Nicky said. He looked at Joe and then back at Booker. “I could get behind funneling the money to Maltesi independence. But I still have a few more questions.”

Booker nodded. “Go ahead.” 

“How would Joe and I fit into the crew, and what will Andy be doing?”

“I’ve already talked up the two of you.” Booker looked at Nicky. “I explained that you were a safe cracker and locksmith.” He turned to Joe. “I told them you are a sketch artist. They have someone who works for the railroad company who can get inside the secure car on a train, but they don’t any way of getting pictures of that car. I said Joe could draw it from memory if they get him a look.”

Both of those things were true, so it would not be hard to play those roles, Nicky thought. “And Andy?”

“I told them Andy could be a backup driver for the train. Napoleon says he’s already got a guy, but I told them Andy can drive anything.”

“And he’s okay with her being a woman?”

Booker looked down, not meeting Nicky’s eyes. “I may not have mentioned that she was a woman.”

“Booker.” 

“I know, I know.” Booker held up his hands like he was surrendering. “I figure we can just prove Andy’s competency and then it won’t matter.” 

“Or Andy could just kill him,” Joe said deadpan.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Booker said without a lot of conviction. “So any more questions Nicky?”

Nicky shook his head. “No Booker, I see now that you have thought of all the angles. I’m not sure that not disclosing Andy is a woman is a good idea, but I’ll let her deal with that.” 

Booker looked directly at Nicky. “Is that a yes?”

Nicky nodded. “It’s a yes. But I want your word, we will work to make sure there are no casualties.” 

“Deal,” Booker said, extending his hand for Nicky to shake.

Nicky shook his hand. 

Joe clasped his hand on both of their shoulders. “Who’s going to call Andy and let her know we are robbing a train?” he asked. 

~*~*~*~NOW~*~*~*~

Nile tapped Nicky’s hand with her own. She had clearly waited until a natural stopping point to ask her question. “Why did Andy make you decide?” she asked.

Joe looked to Nicky to see if he wanted him to answer. Nicky nodded. 

“While we were a team of four, when accepting or declining jobs, it was a verdict decided on by three,” Joe explained. 

“You and Nicky always decide together.” It was an acknowledgment by Nile more than a question. 

Joe nodded. “We’ve been one vote since the 14th century at least.”

“You never disagree?” Nile asked. 

Nicky stood up and walked into the kitchen and came back outside with the kettle. “Of course we do, but we make our case to each other and whoever makes the better argument casts the vote.” He poured everyone a new cup of tea. 

“Wow. So Andy knew this?” Nile asked.

Joe blew on his tea before meeting Nile’s eyes. He took a sip before he continued. “She did, she does. The thing is if it's a job she doesn’t care one way or the other about, she lets the team decide.”

“Didn’t Booker use that to his advantage?”

Joe laughed. “He would have but most of his ideas were shit.” 

“So Andy vetoed more than she agreed to,” Nicky said with a sad smile. “Although, my beloved,” Nicky stopped and looked directly at Joe and then continued, “also had a penchant for crap ideas.”

Joe laughed. “You challenge one American ambassador to a duel and you get a reputation.” 

Nile shook her head. “I’m never going to hear all your stories. I’m gonna have to start taking notes for what I want to hear about next.”

~*~*~*~THEN~*~*~*~

Joe slotted himself behind Nicky, hands on his hips and chin hooked over his shoulder. He rubbed his nose against the side of Nicky’s neck. Joe peered over Nicky’s shoulder to the stove. “Something smells good and I’m sure it’s not just whatever you're cooking.” 

Nicky tilted his head to knock against Joe’s with his own. “Flatterer. What you’re smelling is swiss steak and mashed potatoes.” 

“Mmmm. Okay so the food smells good as well.” Joe raised his head and leaned in to kiss Nicky’s nape. “It is one of my favorites.” 

Nicky placed his hand over Joe’s and squeezed. “I figured you probably worked up an appetite. How did it go with Booker?” 

With a kiss to Nicky’s temple, Joe stepped away and hopped up on the counter next to the stove so he could see Nicky while he was cooking. “It took a few attempts but we were able to feign the stop by fiddling with the switches in a little under 90 seconds.”

Nicky stirred the gravy and set the wooden spoon down before turning to look at Joe. “Is that fast enough?” 

Joe shrugged. “Knocking another twenty seconds off would be better, but for our first try, I’m happy. Would have been happier if you were with us.” 

Nicky shrugged back. “I don’t enter into the plan until after the train is stopped, so there’s no need for me to be there for this practice. It’s better I work on my lock picking skills with Andy.” 

“Habibi, you’ve been picking locks for a couple of centuries. You’ve always been good with your hands,” Joe said with a wink.

“Mechanisms have changed a lot over the last century. And I’m worried about the vibrations and motions from the train even if it’s been pulled to a stop, it could still make it harder to break open the door. So practice is good.” 

“Fair point. But I still would have liked you to have been there.”

Nicky reached out and patted Joe’s knee. “I would have preferred spending the afternoon with you as well, but we agreed to this job so that means separate roles for a while.” 

Joe reached out and tugged on Nicky’s arm, pulling him to stand between his legs. Once Nicky was there, Joe draped his arms over Nicky’s shoulders and looked him in his eyes. “I don’t like working apart.” 

Nicky bent forward so their foreheads were touching. “It’s a couple of afternoons a week. It’s not like we're working on separate war fronts again.” 

“I know. I just feel better when we are working together.” 

Nicky tilted Joe’s head up with his hand and said, ”Provo lo stesso, amore mio.” He leaned in for a soft, affirming kiss. “Right now, we can work together to finish dinner.” 

Joe smiled and hopped down from the counter. “What can I do?” 

Nicky leaned in for another kiss. “Mash those potatoes for me.” 

Joe nodded and took the pot of potatoes off the stove to drain them. 

“What time does Andy arrive tomorrow?” Joe asked as they transferred the food to their table. 

“Right after noon,” Nicky said. “You and Booker will still be working with Napoleon’s men tomorrow?”

Joe nodded. “I'm scheduled to hop a mail train. I’m pretending to be a reporter working on a story about the UKs top-notch rail system.” 

Nicky met Joe eyes. “I look forward to reading your article.”

Laughing, Joe filled their water glasses. “Might be able to show you a couple of my etchings babe, maybe a poem or two, but news articles are so not my area.” 

Nicky laughed and kissed the back of Joe’s neck before they both sat down. “I don’t know I could see you with a beret and spiral notebook.”

“That’s because you have a wild imagination.” 

Laughing again, Nicky passed the mashed potatoes to Joe. “Hardly, I’ve been around long enough to know there is nothing you can’t do.” 

~*~*~*~

Nicky met Andy at the train station one day in July. It was humid for Scotland, but Andy looked chic in her tunic and pant set. “Looking good, Boss,” Nicky said, greeting her with a tight hug. 

She cupped the nape of his neck and smiled. “I’d say the same about you but I’m blinded by this colorful cravat you're wearing,” she said tugging at the material around Nicky’s neck. 

Nicky knew she was teasing but he chose to ignore it. “Thanks, Joe bought me this one a while back. He says purple is my color.” 

Andy laughed. They made their way out of the train station and walked up the hill back to Joe and Nicky’s flat. “So, how goes the mission prep?” Andy asked. 

Nicky groaned. “They are so stupid. Like almost comically so. I was originally not a fan of Booker’s plan, but now I think we need to be there just to make sure no one gets hurt.” 

Andy nodded and looped her arm with Nicky’s as they kept climbing up the hill. “In all our years, have we ever actually encountered smart criminals?” 

Nicky shook his head. “That’s true. Have you and Booker worked out what your role will be?” 

“He’s going to present me as someone who could drive the train.”

Nicky hmmed. “That makes sense but I’m not sure this Napoleon will go for that. It seems his only use for women is grabbing their asses while drinking at a bar.”

“Booker warned me. But I can be pretty convincing.” 

Nicky laughed. “That you can Boss, that you can. It will be good to be working together again.” 

“I thought you were enjoying the break?” Andy asked. 

“I am, but there will never be a time I don’t enjoy watching you kick some ass.” 

Andy laughed. “And it’s been too long since I stretched those muscles.” 

Nicky opened up the door to the flat. “We put you in the guest room.” 

Andy followed Nicky inside. “I heard you kicked Booker out. Would have liked to have seen that.” 

Nicky chuckled. “He deserved it.” 

“I have no doubt,” Andy said, dropping her backpack at the foot of the bed. “And now I get the room and the meals that come with it.”

Nicky pursed his lips. “I would have cooked for you regardless.” 

“I know,” Andy said following Nicky out of the room and into the kitchen. There was a plate of Andy’s favorite cookies sitting on the counter. “When will Joe and Booker be back?”

“It will still be a couple of hours. Do you want coffee or tea with your cookies?” 

“Coffee, please,” Andy said around a mouthful of cookie. 

They settled at the table and drank their coffee. “So how are you really feeling about this job?” 

“Not my favorite,” Nicky said, “but it’s helped Booker out of his funk, and as I said earlier, these idiots need some schooling.”

“And how’s school?” Andy asked, grabbing another cookie off the plate. 

“It’s good. Should complete my doctorate next spring. You know unless we get arrested for bank robbery.”

“Why does the university look down on that sort of thing? It’s not like they haven’t been pilfering from across the globe for centuries.” 

Shaking his head, Nicky moved the plate of cookies away from Andy. “Last time I checked, the University of Edinburgh is not British Empire, Boss. Back off my educational pursuits, or no more cookies for you.” 

Andy laughed. “I could take you.”

“You most definitely could, but then there wouldn't be any more cookies.” 

Andy laughed again. “You make a good point Nicky. I’ve missed you.” 

“You’ve been missed as well, Boss.” 

~*~*~*~  
The four of them spent the evening together catching up. Time spent apart always seemed to magnify just how important it was that they were a team. A family. “What have you been doing Boss?” Joe asked, filling her glass with more wine.

“Or who have you been doing?” Nicky added, clearly well on his way to drunk.

Both Joe and Andy laughed at Nicky’s inquiry as Booker simply took another swig from his flask. “I’ve been test flying the new BAC One-Eleven. It’s going to revolutionize air travel between Britain and Europe. It’s got a way better chance than that stupid tunnel under the channel.” 

Booker looked at Andy. “What have you got against connecting Britain and France?”

Andy smiled and took the flask from his hand. She took a swig. “Nothing. I just don’t think building a tunnel underneath all that water is a good idea. Plus let's be realistic, it will be another decade at least before England and France agree on terms.”

“I’m all for both,” Nicky said. “Anything has to be better than a boat,” Nicky said before realizing the minefield he had just stepped in.

Andy met his eyes. She knew he wasn’t talking about Quynh, but she also knew he was thinking of her. She gave a subtle nod and pivoted the conversation away from that still open wound. “You’d think after 900 years, you’d finally get your sea legs.” 

“You’d think after all your millenniums, your favorite mode of transportation wouldn't still be a horse, but here we are,” Nicky said with a wink.

“Guess you’re just rooted in your ways,” Joe said with a smile. “Although deep down, I agree with Andy. You just can’t get love and loyalty from an automobile.”

“I’m so sorry habibi that you are still lamenting the death of your first love.” 

Andy snorted. 

Booker dropped his fork. “Wait a minute. Joe loved someone before you?”

Nicky nodded. “Sadly, yes. He was a chestnut-maned stallion named Abbas, which is Arabic for lion. Joe would sleep curled next to him while I shivered in the cold several feet away when we first started traveling together. He would bring him fruits and whisper sweet nothings in his ear.”

“That is all true,” Joe said, leaning back with his fingers linked behind his head. “Abbas was my confidant and my companion. He was the first creature I told that I had fallen in love with Nicky.” 

“Guys, there is _not_ enough liquor for this conversation,” Andy said. “If you make me cry, I will end you.” 

“It won’t stick,” Joe said. He looked from Nicky to Booker. “What Nicky hasn’t told you was that when Abbas had to be put down over a decade later, it was Nicky who wept the longest for him.”  
Nicky leaned over and kissed Joe’s cheek. “You lost your last connection to your family. Of course I cried. But it wasn’t for him. It was for you.” 

“I love you,” Joe said. 

“Ti amo,” Nicky returned. 

When Nicky leaned back over, Andy socked him in the arm. “And now you made me cry you bastard.” 

Even Booker’s eyes were misty. He took another swig from his flask. “It’s good to have the band back together,” he said, stealing Joe’s normal line. 

~*~*~*~

When Booker introduced Andy to Napoleon it could not have gone worse. 

Napoleon looked Andy up and down like she was a piece of meat. “This driver you’ve been talking up is a bird? Not gonna happen,” he said, turning away. 

“She can hot-wire and drive anything with an engine,” Booker said, trying to keep his voice calm. “What is your problem? You wanted back up. I brought back up.” 

“I’m sure you believe that, but I’m not letting some bint muck up our mission.”

Andy swallowed hard, clearly fighting against every instinct that told her to round kick this misogynistic asshole into next week. She forced a smile on her face and walked toward the large rig that was hidden inside the garage. “I can demonstrate my skills if you like.”

Napoleon leered at her. “Oh, I’m sure you could honey, but I’m not buying what you are selling.”

Booker stepped in front of Andy in the hope of stopping her from ending Napoleon then and there. Andy stepped around him. “Never fear, I wouldn’t give you the time of day,” she said, clearly still trying to sell the part. “I’ve spent decades learning the mechanics of all modes of transportation. I’ve hot-wired everything from tractors to airplanes. This certainly wouldn’t be my first time starting and moving a train.” 

“That’s all well and good, but I’m not putting a dame on my crew. It would be too distracting.” 

“So your crew isn’t made up of professionals then?” Andy asked with an angry edge to her voice. 

“Don’t know, don’t care. I’m not dealing with that temptation.” Napoleon turned away from Andy clearly dismissing her. He looked directly at Booker. “Sorry mate, I’m not risking having a woman on the job.” 

Booker and Andy had a silent conversation with their eyes. Andy’s faint head nod let Booker know to just let it go. They would find a different plan for Andy’s participation. “Your loss. Don’t come whining to me if we get there and you can’t move the train,” Booker said. He turned to Andy. “Sorry you came all the way up to Scotland. I’ll book you a ticket back down to London.” 

Andy nodded and walked away. It would feel very good to take all that fucker’s bounty.

~*~*~*~ NOW ~*~*~*~

“Wait, wait, wait. How did Andy not end that asshole?”

Joe laughed and looked at Nicky to answer. “It was a different time. There are times--too many of them--throughout history where it had to appear that Andy wasn’t in charge.”

Joe caught Nile’s eye. “She was still the boss though,” he said, emphatically. 

“Indeed,” Nicky continued. “The 1950s and early 60s were very frustrating for Andy. The war had proved that women could not only do the jobs of men, but could do them better and more efficiently. It was like this perfect little bubble of equality. But of course that bubble burst as soon as the war was over. The men returned from fighting and they balked at the new reality. So they worked very hard to--” Nicky paused looking for the words in English. “What’s the expression, pigeonhole them back into the standard gender roles.” 

Joe nodded to let Nicky know he got the expression right. “Back into being skirt-wearing, dinner-preparing housewives who deferred all decisions to their husbands.” 

“Andy didn’t take it well,” Nicky explained. “The backward slide away from progress for many women, including the majority of the women she worked with, the women she trained was so hard for her. Whether it was out of their control or they were okay with losing their agency weighed on her for quite some time. It was one of the reasons we’d taken a break from fighting.”

Joe continued. “The only thing Andy liked about that period was the disgusting jello desserts that were all the rage.”

“So she wasn’t on the train with you?” Nile asked.

Nicky shook his head. “No, Napoleon the stupid, as Yuself dubbed him, continued to put his foot down about having a woman on the job, even after seeing what Andy could do.” Nicky turned to Nile. “She hot wired and stole a motorcycle in front of him.”

“Stole?” Nile asked, her eyes wide. 

“Borrowed,” Nicky amended. “She brought it back to where she took it. So after several attempts to have Napoleon to see reason, we adjusted the plan and she met us after the actual robbery.” 

Joe winked at Nile. “Don’t worry. Spoiler alert, as you youngins say, she got her revenge. Took out one of Napoleon’s back molars with a very targeted kick to the jaw while Nicky gave him the play-by-play on how he would see no money from the heist.”

“Only a molar?” Nile asked. 

“Sometimes, an irritant every time you chew is the most fitting revenge,” Nicky said in a serious and wholesome tone.

Nile had to bite her tongue to stop from laughing. “So what happened on the train?”

~*~*~*~THEN~*~*~*~  
.

The more the three of them worked with Napoleon’s crew, the clearer it became that these assholes should not be left to their own devices. Perhaps it was a good idea they were robbing the robbers, just to make sure such utter incompetence did not get rewarded, Nicky thought as he watched another of Napoleon's crew fail to detach the automatic coupler that tied the train cars together. If they couldn’t separate the train cars in a timely manner the plan would not work. 

Nicky watched as Joe took the time to slowly walk the men through the steps again and allowed himself to admire the strength and skill of Joe’s hands at work. It took another several tries, but the men were finally able to separate the pieces. Nicky hoped they would be able to do it during the actual robbery. He wasn’t sure how he felt about their team becoming nothing short of bandits, but he knew he didn’t want the money going to support the troubles in Ulster. He suggested the team could use even more practice and Joe agreed. They worked with them for weeks, and after a month of running drills, it was go time. 

~*~*~*~

Stopping the train was a basic smoke and mirrors show, and it was a technique that he and Booker had put to good use in the war to stop Nazi supply trains. Booker covered the green go light with heavy-duty tape while Joe hooked up a battery to the red light to make it shine. However, unlike the war, they hadn’t needed to lay charges to the tracks, so it was a decidedly easier and less risky task. Next, Booker cut the wires on the line side telephone so that there was no way for someone from the train to contact the signalman before they had made their way to the now-stopped train. 

They left it to another member of Napoleon’s team to incapacitate the train crew’s secondman once he realized there was no way to call out. 

“That went well,” Booker said as they approached the train car. 

“It did,” Joe said. “Good to know the muscle memory is still there. Although, not having Andy here really is too much like the war.” 

“At least Nicky is here with us this time,” Booker said

Joe smiled even if it didn’t reach his eyes. The team had spent nearly an entire year apart during the war and he had missed Nicky like a phantom limb. They had made a pact to never be apart for that long again. They had done a lot of good during the war, and perhaps helped turn the tide on both battlefronts, but it had been hard. 

Booker grasped Joe’s shoulder and squeezed like he knew where Joe’s mind had gone. “Enough of that. He’s probably already boarded the train and waiting for us to arrive.”

Joe nodded and jumped to find holding on the side of the train car. He scaled it with ease and then pulled Booker on top of the train car with him. They made their way to the top of the ‘High Value Package’ carriage and hopped down just as Nicky was in place to pick the locks on the HVP’s door. Joe met his eyes and gave a nod. It’d been a while since the three of them worked a job without Andy, but they fell into an easy routine. One of the advantages of over 100 years of working together was that every more was instinctive. Once Nicky had the door open, he and Booker entered first so they could secure the postal workers in the carriage, thereby ensuring no civilians were harmed. They quickly had the five workers tied and gagged before the rest of the crew rushed in. 

Joe was not impressed with Napoleon or the crew he had assembled. They were all itching for a fight and it was clear they were willing to rough up the workers on the train simply doing their job. And both he and Nicky had sized up Napoleon right away. While he might be the ‘mastermind” of this operation, it was clear he was the type of person who was out for himself first. He needed a team to pull this heist off but he would sell them out in a heartbeat. It was up to him, Nicky and Booker to make sure that didn’t happen. 

~*~*~*~

Without Andy on the train, it left them with a missing set of eyes, so once Nicky had the money compartment open, he walked through to the engine room while Joe and Booker started offloading the bags of money. It was a good thing that he did. He arrived just in time to hear the crack of a bone shattering. 

“What the fuck?” Nicky asked as he fully entered the cab. Two of the crew had smashed the driver’s head in. He was unconscious in a pool of blood on the floor. One of the men was still holding the metal pipe. “Who’s going to drive the train now?” 

“Napoleon brought a guy in to drive,” said the asshole not holding the cosh.

Nicky walked over to assess and attend to the driver’s injuries, only to have the asshole _with_ the cosh raise it like he’s ready to bash in Nicky’s head as well. Nicky fixed him with a glare that could cut class, his eyes bright with fury. “Put that down and find me a towel or something to stave the bleeding.”

Nicky looked from one man to the other. “Is there a reason he’s in such bad shape?”

The first robber said, “He tried to escape.”

Nicky snorted. “And the two of you couldn’t subdue a fifty-plus-year-old man without bashing in his skull.”

“Who the fuck are you to judge us?” 

Nicky had heard enough, he quickly stood and swung his body around, delivering a sharp elbow to one robber’s adam’s apple to incapacitate him before lunging forward to slam the man with the pipe up against the side of the train compartment. He pressed his forearm against the man’s neck. “I’m the signore who’s going to make sure no one dies during this robbery. That said, if you try anything else, I’ll gladly make an exception for you.” Nicky removed his arm and the man took a gasp of air. “Now go check on your friend while I tend to the driver’s injuries.” 

The head wound was serious. The driver had already developed panda eyes--purplish bruises around the eye sockets--that were a tell-tale sign of a depressed fracture. Nicky had seen way too many of these types of injuries during the war. The prognosis wasn’t good if they couldn’t get the man to the hospital to relieve the excess pressure on his brain. Nicky swore to himself and worked to stabilize the man’s head to prevent any further damage.

He turned to the other men. “You cracked his skull.”

“Well he shouldn’t have resisted,” said the man who used the pipe. He had regained his breath and his voice, which carried not a hint of remorse. In fact, all Nicky could hear was clear annoyance that he had stopped them.

“You cracked his skull, which means you’ve put this whole operation in jeopardy.”

It was at this point that Joe, Booker, and Napoleon entered the engine room. “What the fuck?” asked Napoleon. 

Joe and Booker needed no words, they could read the fury on Nicky’s face. 

Nicky turned his attention to Napoleon. “Your men thought it was a good idea to take a swing at the driver’s head. He’s got a skull fracture and needs a hospital.”

“We don’t have time for that.” 

“Oh, I’m sure we don’t, but we also don’t have time for him to die on us either,” Nicky said. “His death would take this mission well beyond that of a simple robbery.” 

Napoleon nodded. “What do you suggest?” 

Joe made his way over to help Nicky with the unconscious man. 

Nicky addressed Joe first. “Find something we can use to stabilize his neck.” He turned to Napoleon. “Bring your man in to drive the train and we’ll do our best to make sure this man doesn’t die. Once the train is moved, we can discuss next steps.” 

Napoleon nodded again and sent for the driver he’d brought along. It slowly turned into a farce as Napoleon’s backup driver didn’t know how to drive the new engine. 

“Wasn't that his only job?” Booker, who had been standing there silently, asked. 

“It was,” Napoleon answered before turning to Joe and Nicky. “Can either of you do it?” 

“No, they can’t,” Booker answered for them. “You nixed the one person who could have gotten us out of this mess because she was a woman.” 

“Now is not the time to be bitching about your bint,” Napoleon said. 

Joe rolled his eyes. “Seems like the perfect time seeing as how that bint, as you call her, can hot-wire and drive anything with an engine.”

Napoleon looked from Booker to Joe. “What? Are you both fucking her?”

Nicky reached out and stopped Joe from lunging at Napoleon. “Andy wouldn’t have either of them. She’s got herself an air force colonel. And as much as I’d love to keep talking about Andy and her infinite skills, she’s not here and someone has to drive the train or we are all fucked.” 

“Any ideas?” Napoleon asked. 

The postal driver woke up right at that moment. And while he was in no shape to drive the train, he was able to talk Booker through how to start the engine. Once the train was driven to the rendezvous point half a mile down the track, the men started offloading the bags of money using the tried-and-true human chain method. They passed one bag along at a time until 120 of the 128 bags had been removed and loaded into trucks. 

Joe and Booker helped with the offload while Nicky and Napoleon discussed what to do with the driver. “We need to leave him here,” Napoleon said. “By now the authorities are aware that the train was taken.”

Nicky wanted to argue that they should get him to a hospital, but In the end he agreed. He knew what, or rather who, was waiting for them at their final destination. Andy would take them all down and Nicky would just stand back and let her. “You had better hope that he doesn’t die,” Nicky said, the threat clear in his voice. “This was not what we signed up for.” 

Napoleon nodded as they made their way off the train. 

~*~*~*~  


With a decoy truck with the same license plate headed in the opposite direction, Booker, Joe and Nicky hunkered down in the back of the truck with the other members of the crew. Napoleon has let slip where they would be distributing the money during a planning session last week. After that, it was easy to have Andy be waiting for them.

As the truck turned off the paved road to a gravel one, the three of them made their move. They were outnumbered 3-to-1, but close quartered hand-to-hand combat was well within their wheelhouse. They had knocked out or incapacitated all nine of the other crew members before the truck even pulled into the barn. “Should we wait here or exit?” Nicky asked as he stepped over the last of the men. 

They could hear fighting outside the door. “Let’s go,” Booker said, clearly eager to either join Andy or watch her take down the last four guys. 

Nicky released the interior door latch and swung it open, just in time to see Andy use her own body’s momentum to smash two of the robbers together and knock them out.

“Boss,” Joe greeted her as they hopped down from the back of the truck. “Need any help?”

Andy smiled, her face equal parts feral and joyous, not unlike a cat playing with its prey. “I’ve got it, thanks,” she said, pulling Napoleon out of the driver’s seat. 

He looked stunned, like he couldn’t understand how a woman could be strong enough to move him with ease. Nicky walked up to Andy as she shoved him to the ground and placed her steel toed boot square on his chest. “You really should have let Andy drive the train. Not that it would have ended any differently for you,” Nicky said, leaning back against the truck. “While Andy here plays with you like a bug, Joe and Booker are off-loading all the money into our vehicle.”

Andy let Napoleon sit up. “You won’t get away with this,” he said, clearly not understanding the futility of his words. 

“Oh, I think we will,” Andy said with a smirk. “Nicky, do you care to tell this berk where he went wrong.”

Nicky rubbed his hands together. “Well to start with, you got pissed in a pub and started jabbering on about robbing a mail train loud enough for Booker to overhear and it went downhill from there.”

“So you’re just taking the money for yourselves?” Napoleon asked, trying to stand up. 

Andy shoved him back down. “Stay down,” she said.

Nicky took a step toward Andy and bent down so he was next to Napoleon’s ear. “We’re going to take the money to do some good in the world, but leave just enough crumbs to lead the bobbies directly to you.”

“You’re not that smart,” Napoleon spat out. 

Nicky laughed. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m not the one about to lose a tooth,” he said as he moved his head a split second before Andy’s foot connected with Napoleon’s jaw. The impact saw Napoleon’s jaw bloom right where his back molar would be. Blood pooled from his mouth and his head hit the ground as he passed out. It could have been from the force of the impact or the pain. Nicky didn’t much care if it was one or the other. 

NOW  
~*~*~*~*~*~

“So how did history get it so wrong?” Nile asked after Joe and Nicky finished their story. 

“We planted just enough money to lead the authorities to Napoleon and his crew. No one believed their story that the money was stolen from them,” Nicky said.

Joe continued. “They just assumed the robbers spent it all. Booker would drop clues every once in a while to lead the police to another member of the gang.”

“He also set up a trust fund for the driver so he and his family were taken care of. And he did it before I could even make the suggestion. It was a stupid mission for sure, but in the end we did indeed do some good.” 

“How did the whole Northern Ireland and Malta situations turn out?” Nile asked.

Nicky smiled. “The Troubles, as they were called, didn’t return to Northern Ireland for another five years. There’s no way to know if preventing the money from going to them made a difference, but I like to think it did.“

“As for Malta,” Joe said. “It became an independent state in 1964 but retained the Queen as its head of state. It would take another ten years before it became a republic in 1974.”

“So the money did some good like Booker promised,?” Nile asked. 

Smiling, Nicky nodded his head. “It did indeed.” He looked directly at Joe.

Nile watched them and knew she would have to add Malta to what was turning out to be an endless list of story she needed to hear. Then again, it didn’t hurt to nudge now. “What is it about Malta that keeps those looks on your faces?”

“Malta is very dear to our hearts,” Nicky said looking at Joe for affirmation to share with Nile. “It is where my Yusef told me he loved me for the first time.”

“It’s also where my Nicolo broke up with me.” 

Nile gasped. “What?”

“He was trying to protect me and it was only for a day, but I chopped that olive tree to the ground the next time we went back there.” 

“You lovesick fool,” Nicky said rolling his eyes. “I didn’t break up with him. I said I thought I needed to travel home to Italy by myself. I had to finally confront the hate that pushed me to fight in the Crusades.” 

“He was going to leave me behind.” 

Nicky shook his head. “In the end, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t face the ugliness of my past without the steadfast reminder of my much brighter future.” 

“When was this?” Nile asked.

“The fourteenth century, I believe,” Joe said. 

‘You don’t even know when it happened?” Nile asked, smacking Joe’s arm.

“I’ve blocked it out for obvious reasons.”

Nicky turned to Nile. “I didn’t break up with him.” 

She patted Nicky’s knee. “I believe you.” 

She looked at them both. “There’s more to Malta isn’t there?” 

“There is,” Nicky said with a wistful smile. “So much more, but that is for another day.” 

In for a penny, in for a pound. Nile might as well ask her other burning question. 

They were all silent for a moment before Nile looked between Joe and Nicky. “Tell me the truth,” she asked. “Are you really going to keep Booker in exile for 100 years? It’s obvious you both miss him, but even more importantly, he seems to get up to some shit when you aren’t there to rein him in.” 

“I can’t argue with that reasoning,” Nicky said. “But after 200 years, Booker chose to betray us rather than to trust us with his pain. He can blame it on Andy, he can blame it on the two of us always having each other, but what it boils down to is he viewed his own pain as more important than our very lives.”

Joe continued. “You could argue that it was only for a fleeting moment, but if you hadn’t arrived when you did Nile, we might very well still be chained up in the lab, and Andy may very well have been dead. As much as we love Booker -- no matter how much we miss him -- that is not a betrayal that we can get over easily.”

“So to answer your question, we may get there before the 100 years is up, but it won’t be anytime soon,” Nicky said, sadness clear in his tone. 

Nile stood up and motioned for the both of them to join her. When they stood, she wrapped her arms around both of them. 

“This not-dying thing is still a really fucked up way to live, but I’m so glad I have you guys with me for the ride. You and your love gives me hope.” 

Joe squeezed both Nile and Nicky tight and kissed the top of Nile’s head. “We are lucky to have you, little sister. And not just because you rescued us from that lab.”

Nicky pulled back a little so Nile could see his face. “Joe speaks the truth. You being here helps us remember who we are and why we do what we do. You helped us find purpose again and reminded Andy that what we do has made and continues to make a difference.”

When they broke apart, Joe grabbed Nile’s hand and waist and waltzed her along the length of the balcony, clearly trying to lighten the mood. He dipped her and she couldn’t help but laugh. “You are too much,” she said, her tone clearly showing otherwise. 

“You brighten our lives, Nile. You are just going to have to put up with a dance or two,” Joe said pulling her upright. 

Nicky walked over to the two of them. “Joe again only speaks the truth. You also have taught us all kinds of new technology that will make our jobs easier.”

“And more fun,” Joe added with a bright smile. “Although teaching Andy how to use GIFs may come back to bite us all in the ass.” 

Nile laughed again. “They bring her joy, so you’re just gonna have to suck it up and let her send you inappropriate pictures at all hours of the day.” 

“That is a small price to pay to see a smile on Andy’s face,” Nicky said. 

And as if she somehow knew her team was talking about her, all their phones dinged at the same time with a text from Andy. It was indeed a raunchy GIF with a message saying she would be joining them the next day. They all laughed. “How does she always do that?” Nile asked. 

“After 900 years, I have learned not to question Andy’s omniscient ways,” Nicky said with a smile. 

“Probably smart,” Nile agreed. “Hey, you said Andy liked some sort of Jell-o dessert. Could we make her one to celebrate her return.” 

Joe groaned while Nicky shuddered. “We can,” Nicky said. “Just be prepared to be disgusted by it.” 

“It can’t be that bad,” Nile said. 

Joe laughed. “Oh it can and it is, but it will be worth it for Andy.”

Nile looked from Joe to Nicky and clapped her hands together in what only could be described as glee. “All right team, let's get this party started. This is the type of train wreck I can get behind.” 

They all laughed as they made their way to the kitchen. 

_mio fratello d'armi:_ My brother in arms

**Author's Note:**

> All I know about the Great Train Robbery of 1963, I learned from Wikipedia and what I remembered from the book, _The Great Train Robbery: Crime of the Century: The Definitive Account_ by Nick and Stewert Richards that I read on a train in 2017.


End file.
